


lullaby

by Nacht



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Non-Explicit, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nacht/pseuds/Nacht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros wakes up late, attempts a conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to make myself happy when I needed a distraction. Hopefully it will make some of you happy as well. Kudos and comments are always appreciated.

He woke to the sound of Maglor murmuring the words of a cradle song learned long ago. It was too reverent in tone and the cadence was too slow for it to be one of their mother’s, for which Maedhros was thankful, but listening to it still left him with an ache in his chest. It called out to too much of what was lost to them forever.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Incongruous choice.”

Maglor trailed off. 

“Is it?”

“Yes,” Maedhros said. “You’re singing lullabies to wake me up.”

Maglor clicked his tongue. “You’re assuming quite a lot. My original intention might have been not to wake you at all.”

Maedhros curled his toes inside of his socks. The sheets were damp enough with sweat that the fitful nature of his sleep was obvious, but Maedhros refused to mention it, and Maglor was permitting him the deflection.

Maedhros was thankful for that, as well.

“You grew tired of observation and wished for conversation,” he said, attempting to come across as sly. The particulars of whatever dream he had been having had not stuck with him, which made it easier to pretend at a playfulness he did not truly feel. “You made sure to pick something that would pique my curiosity, rather than any of your own compositions.”

“You do my compositions a grave disservice,” Maglor said with exaggerated seriousness.

Maedhros ignored him.

He stretched and yawned as he rolled his neck. His skin was prickling with lingering soreness and pain, sweeping up from his spine and out over his shoulders until it permeated him down to his bones.

His hand itched.

Maglor’s fingers carded through his hair, and Maedhros supposed that he must have combed it out at some point while he was still asleep, because the short locks were untangled and voluminous, the ends curling around the ears. Maglor was the only one who struggled to wake him up now. Unlike everyone else, from strangers to servants to the rest of their brothers, Maglor could barge into his room, sit on his bed, lean over him and touch him and talk to him, and Maedhros would sleep through all of it.

He had no idea why, and he spent no time trying to figure it out.

Maglor scratched his scalp, and Maedhros turned, nuzzling deeper into his touch.

“The morning grows late,” Maglor said after a while, low and sardonic. “If you agree to forgive me for waking you up then I will agree to forgive you for implying my music is boring enough to keep you asleep forever.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Maedhros said. “And does that mean you’re admitting to doing it on purpose?”

“Waking you up? Of course not,” Maglor denied. “Now get out of bed and keep me company.”

Maedhros sighed.

But he still turned over, rolling onto his back.

Maglor’s hand tore free of his hair.

Maedhros stared up at him. He was fully dressed. The only part of his outfit which was missing were the gloves and gauntlets he would surely put on before he chose to go outside. His long hair was coiled up into a tight but disastrously tangled bun at the nape of his neck, and his skin was glowing where it was backlit against the sunshine streaming in through the windows.

Maedhros drank in the sight.

The playfulness he had been faking up until that point felt all of a sudden much more genuine.

He sat up, pulling back the sheets and blankets. He reached out, and in a single motion he grasped Maglor’s face and dragged his thumb across the smooth plain of his cheekbone.

Maglor’s eyelashes fluttered.

He repeated the motion several times, and then he asked teasingly, “Are you sure it’s necessary for me to get out of bed in order to keep you company?”

“Yes,” Maglor answered immediately, managing to sound entirely convincing, but his eyes had gone wide and dark, and he leaned forward, pressing their lips together in a soft and searing kiss.


End file.
